


castaway

by inkk, ShadesinBlue



Series: patience [2]
Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:37:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk/pseuds/inkk, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadesinBlue/pseuds/ShadesinBlue
Summary: Duff feels his heart sink. “...Axl?” he tries tentatively. “Is it— is it bad? I’m sorry if you don’t like it, I just thought…”“No,” Axl cuts him off. “No, it’s— It’s not you.”(two birthdays. two gifts. a fallout.)





	castaway

**Author's Note:**

> cowritten by nat ([ShadesinBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadesinBlue)) & pegs ([inkk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkk))!  
> 2nd part in the series, & takes place in early february (~4 months after “dumb kids”)

+

 

The flowers are neon pink, the color of cheap Valentine decorations, with a rotting smell wafting off of them in waves. That might be because they’re dying. Axl supposes he can’t expect much else, though, after swiping them off the clearance rack.

The clerk had given him a disapproving sneer as she’d rung the flowers up, gingerly trying to avoid touching the withered green stems. His hands had shaken while passing over the crumpled five he’s been holding onto. Axl knows it’s laughable that such a small amount would matter but he’s paying more than half the bills in the house. That’s not taking into consideration that there wouldn’t be gas in the car or food in the pantry if it wasn’t for him signing on extra shifts at the lumber warehouse. For half the people in this godforsaken town, five bucks is chump change handed off to panhandlers—to him, it’s the difference between missing meals. 

It’s the best he can do with what he’s got. He knows that, logically. It doesn’t mean Axl hates himself any less when he glances at Duff in the passenger seat, humming to the radio with his lips chapped in the February wind. The soft brown strands of Duff’s hair lift in the breeze. Axl swallows hard, looks away.

Axl wants to give Duff a gift worthy of him; something that doesn’t make Axl cringe in shame, that isn’t dying and splotched with low-quality dye. He owes Duff that much for his birthday. It’s what a good boyfriend is supposed to do. 

Axl wishes he could take Duff far away from this town. Wishes he could write him the words that get lost in his fucked up head. But he’s not rich, or kind, or smart. He’s nothing, and he’s somehow landed Duff.

He glances over again, his grip on the wheel tightening. 

+

The farther they get from his house, the more Duff finds himself relaxing into the passenger seat of Axl’s truck. There’s an Aerosmith song on the radio, and he’s pleased to find that the tune is familiar after months of hearing Axl play it - the melody comes easily as he hums along.

The atmosphere is quiet as they drive to the outskirts of town. Axl seems tense, but that’s nothing new - work has been picking up lately, combined with the stress of school, and Duff knows birthdays have never been easy for him.

A small, foolish part of him hopes he can do something to change that.

The truck picks up speed as they blow past the weathered _“Welcome To Patience!”_ sign, and Duff directs his attention to the sparse fields whipping by. He absently drums his fingers on his bent knee. Axl usually teases him about the way his gangly legs are a little too long to fit comfortably in most seats, but he hasn’t said a word about it today.

They don’t have much further to go, anyways, and soon enough they’re pulling onto a gravel road just outside of town. It looks different now than it did in the summer; the winter has left the trees barren and the ground is devoid of colour, but Duff still finds himself smiling as he realizes the direction Axl is taking them: the abandoned Higgins’ farm, also known as the location of their first kiss seven months previous. A tide of hopeless affection blooms inside of him.

Duff doesn’t say anything, but he reaches over and gently tugs at the sleeve of Axl’s jacket, waiting for him to obediently lift one hand off the wheel so he can link their fingers together over the console.

“You’re wonderful, you know that?”

+

Axl smiles, hoping the emotion reaches his eyes. He wants to be present for this, not trapped in his own head, his insecurities gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. 

“Nah, sugar. That’s all you,” Axl replies, smoothing his thumb over the skin on Duff’s hand. The contact calms him, makes his stomach stop clenching around the beginnings of a dry heave. 

He parks the car off the side of a sprawling field, sparse strands of dead grass pushing through the patches of snow. Flecks of white fall through the air, blowing through the open windows in damp, wet gusts. In the distance, Axl hears soft birdsong winding through the empty branches of poplar trees. Normally, the Higgins’ place gives Axl a sense of peace, quiet unraveling in the space around him, calming his need to move, yell, run. Underneath the beauty, Axl swears he can still catch the scent of decay from his backseat.

His movements are slow as he opens the car door, pulling the flowers from their hasty hiding spot under the drivers side. Axl turns, bracing himself, only to find Duff in front of him. Duff’s eyes land on the flowers and there are nails raking down Axl’s throat as he tries not to scream out his embarrassment. 

“Are those for me, Axe?” The question is hushed yet the words echo in the still air around them. Axl can’t speak, so he simply nods. 

Duff steps closer. Axl waits for his laughter, his disdain, his realization that Axl is poor and a punk loser who can’t even buy Duff flowers without screwing up. Axl feels his blood freeze when Duff looks up with tears in his eyes because he’s done it, really and truly done it this time, gone and made Duff cry with his shitty present—

“I love them,” Duff breathes out. There’s an emotion burning through his words that Axl can’t place. “Axl, they’re perfect. Thank you.” And he’s grabbing the flowers from Axl, burrowing his button nose into the drooping petals with a wide smile. He doesn’t flinch from the smell. Duff’s face goes soft, the way it does after they’ve kissed goodbye. 

“I’ve got something for you, too.” Axl watches him pull out a slender box, stamped with a fancy logo that immediately has Axl’s guts sinking. 

Duff places it in Axl’s empty palms, doesn’t notice the way Axl’s hands tremble. “Open it.”

+

“Duff, I don’t—“ Axl starts to say, sounding painfully uncertain.

Duff feels the blood rush to his cheeks. “It’s not a big deal, I just— I saw it and thought of you,” he rushes to get out, tongue stumbling over the words of his sheepish explanation. “I wanted to get you something. I… Open it? Please?”

There’s something in Axl’s eyes as he looks down at the box, almost like reluctance, and Duff’s smile falters. For a minute, he thinks Axl is going to say no.

Finally, Axl gives a minute nod, and with a barely-audible intake of breath, he cracks the lid.

A beat passes. Duff waits for a reaction, but Axl seems paralyzed, wind blowing as he stares down at the case in his hands, the simple silver chain lying inside the box.

Duff feels his heart sink. “...Axl?” he tries tentatively. “Is it— is it bad? I’m sorry if you don’t like it, I just thought…”

“No,” Axl cuts him off. “No, it’s— It’s not you.”

The two of them stand there for a moment. Duff cradles his flowers - his beautiful, beautiful flowers, bright pink against the dark navy wool of his coat - and feels the confused regret wash over him. His excitement has deflated, melting into embarrassment; he’s not sure what kind of response he expected, but it wasn’t a hollow, mechanical deferral like this.

Jesus, did he miss the signals? Was he somehow out of line?

“You can return it,” he tries to offer. “If you don’t like it, or— I’m sorry, I thought…” he trails off, swallowing around the lump of humiliation in his throat. “I just thought you’d like it. I’m sorry.”

+

There are tears in Duff’s eyes. The tip of his nose is flushed red from the cold, breath escaping in clouds. Axl knows this should be where he reaches out to lace their hands together and pull him in for a kiss, make him smile instead of look as if he’s being shattered from the inside-out. 

What comes out instead is, “How much money did you spend on this?” 

The words are all wrong, tone harsh, too accusing; what he wants to ask is why Duff would spend money on someone like Axl who is undeserving of this generosity. This charity. He’s suddenly hyper-aware of the patches in his coat, the soles of his boots coming undone, hole in the palm of his polyester glove.

Duff’s face falls further. He bites his bottom lip, voice cracking around words. “It doesn’t matter, Axe, it’s just money. You–”

“Just money?” Axl snorts. Duff’s fingers clench around the flowers, lip quivering, and suddenly Axl is struck with the cruel thought that Duff looks ridiculous right now, clutching dying gas station flowers to his expensive coat. 

Axl looks down at the chain. It’s beautiful, glinting the way all expensive things glitter and shine. He feels unworthy looking down at the stupid thing. He feels like a mistake, too dirty and broken to be holding something this nice while Duff is stuck holding proof of Axl’s shortcomings.

Abruptly, Axl turns on his heel, ignoring the soft whimper Duff lets out. 

“Should get you home,” he mutters, loud enough for Duff to hear. Axl doesn’t wait for a response, just wrenches the dented car door open. The engine sputters to life in the silence. Duff slides into the passenger seat. Axl pretends he doesn’t see the soft shaking of Duff’s shoulders, the reflective sheen of tears on his cheeks. He’d only make it worse. 

The ride back into Patience is spent in silence, the only noise the muffled sound of Duff trying to hide his sobs. Axl thinks about turning the radio on, loud enough to drown out everything else. He never has been good dealing with other people’s emotions.

The streets are empty, the suns rays starting to dim. He pulls haphazardly in front of Duff’s house, sprawling three-story goliath that it is. The engine idles, exhaust fumes blowing black smoke into the sky. The tension hangs between them both. He hears Duff toy with the door handle, listens to him attempt to steady his clogged breathing. 

“Axl,” Duff says and his voice is wrecked. Axl forces himself to turn, to meet Duff’s gaze though his mind is begging him to look anywhere else. He watches, detached, as Duff wipes at his eyes. 

“Please just–just let me know what I did,” Duff pleads. “I just want to fix it.” Axl watches in sick fascination as Duff all but begs him.

It’s need, Axl thinks. The realization crawls under his skin like an itch he can’t scratch, can’t dig out. He turns away. Shakes his head as if to clear it of Duff’s voice, his face. 

“No,” he says, trying his best to sound firm. “Stop, Duff. Stop talking, don’t say anything else.” _Don’t ruin this,_ he wants to scream. _Don’t make this more than it is._

__Axl has no false misconceptions. He isn’t a good guy. And he suddenly wonders what he ever thought would come of this. Because he’s not heading where Duff is headed. Nowhere close, and it was so fucking foolish to pretend otherwise._ _

__“Axe, no, come on,” Duff repeats the words over and over like they’re his last defense. “Baby,” he says, and Axl shudders. “Please, I love you.”_ _

__The moment seems to freeze. He can identify the second he dissociates. It feels like freedom and heartbreak all at once._ _

__“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he replies, voice calm and emotionless._ _

__Duff stares at him. His lips move to form words, but Axl beats him to it - “Night, Duff.”_ _

__He doesn’t look over. He waits for the click of the door handle, the scuffle of shoes hitting the ground, the slam of the door._ _

__He doesn’t wait to make sure Duff gets inside safely. Axl speeds off._ _

__+_ _

__The house is empty when Duff gets home, and he’s grateful for it. His hands shake as he tries to unlock the front door, fingers cold and fumbling until the key finally slides home._ _

__The first thing he does is kick off his shoes and run upstairs to the bathroom - whether with the intention to be sick, to wash his face, or to take a shower and scrub himself raw, he isn’t sure. As he catches his reflection in the mirror, he’s mainly just relieved he doesn’t have to face his mother._ _

__The person looking back doesn’t feel like him - the splotchy cheeks and glassy eyes seem out of place, foreign, like they belong to someone else._ _

_This wasn’t how today was supposed to go_ , he thinks helplessly. It was supposed to be a good day. A celebration. And Duff was going to say those three words, was going to say “I love you, Axl Rose,” as easy as breathing, and they were going to kiss and laugh and everything would have been so good, but now— 

__Now, Duff is leaning up against his bathroom sink, alone, feeling sick to his stomach as those horrible words echo in a loop through his skull._ _

_I’ll see you tomorrow at school._

_Night, Duff._

__His fingers curl into fists where they’re splayed out on the counter, coming up to grip his hair. A choked sob tears itself from his throat._ _

__What did he do?_ _

__Did he just ruin everything?_ _

__+_ _

__At school the next day, Axl avoids Duff at all costs. He sees Duff in the hallways, eyes tinged red but thankfully dry. Axl turns around, careful not to be spotted. He doesn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday._ _

__After the fifth dramatic duck and dodge, Izzy pulls Axl aside, pushing him–harder than necessary–into the empty bathroom._ _

__“Alright, spill, Rose,” Izzy drags out in that lazy way of speaking he has. “You haven’t talked to McKagan once today, and that’s some kinda record.”_ _

__Axl avoids meeting the intense look aimed his way. “Nothin’,” he shrugs, trying his best to appear nonchalant. After his meltdown in the car, Axl feels drained enough that it’s not too difficult to manage._ _

__“Yeah?” Izzy snorts, crossing his thin arms. “That why you’re avoiding him like he insulted your ma?”_ _

__He rolls his eyes despite himself. “Izz, you and I both know if someone insulted my ma I’d be doing a lot more than avoiding ‘em.”_ _

__Izzy looks unimpressed with his answer. “I can tell when you’re dodging the question, asshole.”_ _

__Axl fidgets, poking at the ground with the toe of his scuffed cowboy boot. “Don’t know what you want me to say, Izz,” he manages after a beat of silence. “I fucked up.” He laughs, the harsh sound bouncing off the tile. “Not much of a damn surprise.”_ _

__Axl studies the floor, his shoulders hunching as he prepares to grind out his next words. “He said he loves me,” he admits._ _

__Izzy lets out a heavy sigh. It’s telling, Axl thinks, that Izzy knows exactly how well Axl reacted to those words. “You say anything back?”_ _

__“Nothing good,” Axl responds, quiet. The shame is starting to set in past the panic and humiliation from yesterday. He thinks of Duff’s face as he’d left the car. “Shit.”_ _

__The expression on Izzy’s face doesn’t change, even as he shakes his head slowly. He motions his head towards the door, black hair falling over his eyes. “C’mon, then, class started five minutes ago.”_ _

__Axl follows Izzy out of the bathroom, feeling like the scum he is. As they exit, a small figure with wild curls brushes past and raises his eyes to Axl’s, a glint of something mean reflecting._ _

__Slash nods, smirking._ _

__+_ _

__The thing about a small town, Duff supposes, is that everyone knows everyone - and by extension, gossip spreads like wildfire._ _

__He doesn’t clue in to the glances and whispers right away, but by lunch break of the second day, it’s getting damn near impossible to ignore. Being the topic of conversation is new to him. He wishes he knew what everyone was saying, though - that Axl dumped him? That he cried and blubbered like a little girl? That it’s a miracle why Axl was with a dork like him in the first place?_ _

__Duff sighs and slouches down further in his chair, listlessly flipping the page of his textbook. He’s given up on trying to corner Axl, and has since resigned himself to sitting in the library alone during lunch hour. He’s not really hungry, anyways, and the idea of risking further humiliation in the cafeteria is entirely unappealing._ _

__He’s not alone for long. Maybe ten minutes into the break, the chair next to him is pulled out and someone takes a seat. Duff’s eyes flick up._ _

__“Steven,” he says neutrally._ _

__“Duff,” Steven replies with an easy smile, eyes bright beneath his giant mane of teased blonde hair. “How’re ya holding up, dude?”_ _

__“Fine,” Duff tells him suspiciously. “Did Axl send you?”_ _

__Steven shakes his head, still smiling. “No, just thought I’d come see you.” He pauses. “People are talkin’, y’know.”_ _

__“As people do,” Duff remarks dryly. He sighs. “But yeah, I’ve heard. I had no idea they all these people cared so much about my love life.”_ _

__Steven laughs. “Believe me, they don’t,” he says offhandedly - not unkindly, but rather stating a fact. He clicks his tongue. “Axl, on the other hand? He’s an enigma on his own. And rumour has it, he’s had a little somethin’ on the side.”_ _

__Duff just sits and stares at him for a second, uncomprehending. “Sorry?” he finally asks._ _

__“Yeah,” Steven shrugs, nonplussed. “That’s what they say. Slash saw him gettin’ pretty, uh, _involved_ with some other guy at a party two weekends back. Said he didn’t think anything of it at first, until he heard about that little spat between you two…” he trails off. “And, well. It makes for quite the story.”_ _

__“Oh,” Duff says, eyebrows drawing down into a confused frown. “But two weeks ago was that party at Tommy’s. Axl said— he said it was lame, and he only stayed for an hour. He came over and we watched a movie together after.”_ _

__“An hour is plenty of time, if y'know what I mean,” Steven waggles his eyebrows. “Listen, it’s up to you if you want to believe it or not. I’m just the messenger.”_ _

__“Oh,” Duff repeats dumbly._ _

__Steven cheerfully drums his fingers on the counter, apparently entirely oblivious to the impact of his words. “Well, I’m going to get going,” he announces. “Libraries give me the heebie-jeebies. See you ‘round, McKagan!”_ _

__+_ _

__Duff is leaning against the drivers side of Axl’s car. His arms are crossed, face unreadable in comparison to his normal open expressions. Axl pauses in the midst of the crowd of students pushing their way into the parking lot to leave. He’s not sure whether it would be better to turn around, pretend he hadn’t seen Duff, or face him._ _

__The steely look in Duff’s eye tells him that running might not be an option this time. Walking forward, alarm bells begin to blare the closer he comes. He stops a small distance away, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting under Duff’s glare._ _

__“Hey, McKagan. Long time no see.” Axl winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. They’re careless considering the fact that Axl’s been blatantly ignoring Duff’s existence._ _

__“Are you avoiding me, Axl?”_ _

__He runs a hand through his hair, sighing. Duff shakes his head before Axl can start talking. “No. For once, cut your bullshit and tell me the truth. You’ve been running away from me. I want to know why.”_ _

__Just like that, Axl’s defenses are up, hackles rising. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_ _

__Duff barks out a laugh, the sound jagged and without any humor. “Yeah? You don’t? Then why can’t you even look at me?”_ _

__He forces himself to drag his gaze up to Duff, hardening his expression. “Happy?”_ _

__Another choked laugh escapes Duff’s mouth, this one far more incredulous than the last. Hurt flashes across his face as he studies Axl intently, clenching his jaw like any second he’ll start yelling._ _

__There’s a brief moment where they both stare at each other, neither daring to say a word. A voice in the back of his mind tells Axl that he can fix this. He can do the right thing by Duff, by them, and explain. Tell the truth. Be vulnerable. But that voice is drowned in the background noise of his familiar anger cracking like static, burning up his throat, turning his vision red._ _

__“So this is it,” Duff says, and there’s iron in his voice. Axl can’t find a hint of timidity in those brown eyes locked on his. A sick wash of panic rushes through him, quickly shoved down by the rising anger. He’s never seen Duff this way; hard, no weakness spread across his expressive face. It makes him want to ask for forgiveness because Axl knows, in this moment, nothing good is coming from this argument._ _

__“You’re really going to leave me with no answers, after avoiding me for days, making me cry?” Axl winces at the reminder, certain Duff would be too embarrassed to bring that up. Clearly, he was wrong. Duff is too furious at him to care. “And now this.”_ _

__That catches Axl’s attention. “What d’you mean, this?”_ _

__Duff makes a short, jerky motion with his arm, anger stiffening his movements. “Haven’t you heard what people are saying? It’s all over school by now!”_ _

__”I don’t listen to rumors,” Axl replies, words clipped and short.”_ _

__“Course you don’t,” The mocking edge in his voice sets Axl’s nerves on edge. He grinds his teeth down hard, clenching his fists. “Just talk after all, right? Not like it matters that people are coming up to me saying you fucked some guy at Tommy’s party!” Duff’s voice has risen to a shout by the end. People are stopping to look over at them. Axl can hear whispers, and knows this fight will be common knowledge all over school tomorrow._ _

He doesn’t care, though, because he’s reeling from Duff’s words. The fact that people are saying this doesn’t surprise him. People think of Axl in a certain way and they say stupid things all the time. Some of it true, some of it earned, but Axl would _never_ cheat on Duff. And for Duff to just blindly believe it, to believe the worst of him just like everyone else— 

__“You fuckin’ liar,” he spits out, voice low. He watches in sick amusement as Duff’s eyes widen, as he takes a step back. Axl’s pissed enough that he wants to make Duff hurt. “You sat there and told me you didn’t believe what people said about me. You said it didn’t matter.” He takes a step forward, and then another, pressing Duff up against the side of his worn truck._ _

__“Axl, I don’t care about your past, I just want to be with you,” he mimics Duff’s voice, watching the pain sink over the other’s face. “And I was dumb enough to fall for your little act.”_ _

__“I notice you aren’t saying whether the rumors true or not,” Duff breathes out, eyes wary. “Real reassuring.”_ _

__Axl sneers at him. “Why’s it matter? It’s what you already think, who cares what I have to say about it?” He tightens his fists against the impulse to punch the space beside Duff’s head. “It’d probably make you happy to hear it’s true. Prove you and everyone else right. Fine. If that’s what you’re gonna believe, that I fucked guys behind your back, believe it.”_ _

__Duff looks at him as if he doesn’t know him. “Axe,” he whispers, voice faltering._ _

__“Shut up,” Axl hisses, fury boiling under his skin. “I don’t want to hear it. This thing between us? It was a mistake, a fuckin’ joke.” He forces his expression to be as cruel as possible, keeps his tone cutting as he holds Duff’s glossy eyes. “All you little rich boys are the same. Running after trailer trash rejects, just to feel somethin’ before you go off to your nice little mansions and charmed lives.” He scoffs. “You’re so empty, so damn desperate you’ll do anything to escape that perfect fuckin’ bubble.” The words won't stop even though Axl knows he’s gone far enough. They keep coming, like vomit, poisonous and merciless. “That’s why you’ve been following me around, like some kicked puppy. It’s pathetic.”  
For a second, neither of them say anything._ _

__Duff breaks the silence with a quiet, resigned exhale. “So it’s true, then.”_ _

__It’s not a question, and Axl doesn’t try to give him an answer. “I gotta go,” he says instead, brusquely moving away to open the driver’s side door._ _

__“Axl—“ Duff starts to say, but Axl doesn’t give him a chance to get the words out before he’s slamming the door and starting the engine._ _

__Duff steps aside just in time to avoid getting hit. Axl doesn’t so much as look at him as he backs up, shifts into drive and peels out of the parking lot, leaving him standing there alone on the cold, wet pavement. People are staring, but he hardly hears their voices._ _

__He only waits a minute before turning and numbly letting his feet carry him away from the school; Izzy picked him up this morning, and thanks to that conversation with Axl, he’s long since missed the bus._ _

__The air is cold, the sky looming an endless shade of white above him as he marches mechanically down the sidewalk. His head feels like it’s spinning. Did Axl really cheat on him? Did everyone know this whole time, and no one said anything?_ _

His first reaction was disbelief - that _no, Axl would never do that._

__But the more the insidious thought rolled around in his head, the more sense it seemed to make - Axl had been tense and distant or weeks previous, which Duff had automatically dismissed as stress from home and work, but what if that wasn’t the reason after all?_ _

__What if it was right in front of him the whole time, and he was just too naïve for it to even cross his mind?_ _

__It all makes sense now. Axl was at that party. He doesn’t love Duff, so he found someone else. Someone better. Someone cooler. Someone who would put out._ _

__And in the end, who could blame him? Who in their right mind would ever want Michael McKagan, certified nobody?_ _

_A mistake_ , Axl had said not even ten minutes ago. _A fuckin’ joke._

__The thought almost makes Duff laugh. God, he was such a fucking fool to think this could go anywhere._ _

__He keeps drifting down the sidewalk, hardly even noticing where he’s going. It doesn’t feel like he’s entirely alive at the moment. He barely registers when a car pulls up to the curb beside him, until he’s jerked out of his thoughts by the sound of his name being called - “McKagan! Hey, Michael!”_ _

__Startled, Duff looks over, almost tripping on a patch of ice. The car itself is small and ancient-looking with rusted red paint, the passenger window rolled down enough that Duff can see the massive head of hair inside._ _

__“Hello?” he says uncertainly._ _

__Slash grins. “Heya, spacecase. Saw you walkin’. Need a ride?”_ _

__

__+_ _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> there's a lot more to come in this series, so if you enjoyed, we encourage you to subscribe to see what happens next ;-)  
> -  
> find us on tumblr!  
> pegs - @[shotgunmessiahs](http://shotgunmessiahs.tumblr.com)  
> nat - @[loveislikeabomb](http://loveislikeabomb.tumblr.com)


End file.
